


No Sweet Prince of Love

by Metronomeblue



Series: imagine me & you- forever [13]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Aftercare, Aizen Sosuke Being a Bastard, Aizen makes his problems everyone's problems, Aizen's a fucking asshole, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Betrayal, Blood Kink, Control Issues, Denial of Feelings, Dominance, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Emotionally Repressed, F/M, I'm sure I can come back and add like twenty more tags, Jealousy, Knifeplay, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Objectification, Ownership, Partner Betrayal, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Possessive Behavior, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Submission, THAT WAS A PREMADE TAG, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Violation of Boundaries, Violent Sex, Voyeurism, can't participate so he watches and then ruins it, he's a voyeur to love, i love it, if you saw the pairing you probably know where this is headed, just so much about feelings here damn, kind of?? dubiously consensual is more like it, or something like that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 23:25:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14436429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metronomeblue/pseuds/Metronomeblue
Summary: “The same thing you always want, Cap’n,” Gin teased, teeth scraping gently over the shell of his ear. “Control.” This last word wasn’t a whisper, not a hiss, but a statement. A whole world inside his voice, rough and silk-smooth, fine and bloody and alluring. Sosuke found his breath catching in his chest at the promise there.///Gin and their third partner offer Aizen perhaps more than they should, and he takes it all.





	No Sweet Prince of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Request: "Aizen/s/o/Gin poly with all of the sadism. Aizen with his kink for complete control and power, Gin softening it up around the edges and s/o willing and compliant under their hands."
> 
> the tags p much say it all, but in terms of dubious consent, it's more like "we consented and we enjoyed it, but now we kind of wish we hadn't"

The day began, proceeded, ended like any other. The night before they had all been tired, worn through with lack of sleep and worry, so when he woke, Sosuke was unsurprised to find Gin gone and her curled warmly around his left arm. He detached her, left her asleep. He thought nothing of them for hours. The day passed, as it always did in the false sky, and he prepared to return to his quarters alone. The white halls were quiet at night, and Sosuke found a flush of surprise filling him at the flickering light spilling from the door to his quarters. It washed the dark hall in soft-edged shadows and haloed gold, and the closer he got, the more he recognized the low murmur of Gin’s voice and the hum of her replies.

They were not, in fact, asleep. Gin was sitting flush to the headboard, long legs sprawled out before him. He leaned forward so he could be closer to her, cross-legged between his knees and speaking quietly. She was gesturing fervently, though calmly, and it was clear they were both deeply involved in the conversation. Gin smiled down at her, nodding and replying from time to time. There was something tender in their faces, something soft he rarely saw. A weakness, perhaps, or a secret. A flicker of a frown crossed Aizen’s face, though he quickly replaced it with his usual affectation. He stepped forward, into the room, certain that the soft sound of his footstep was enough for Gin’s ears to prick up. He wasn’t wrong, and Gin looked up over her head almost the moment his foot hit the floor.

“Cap’n,” Gin greeted him, his smile widening. “We waited up for you.” They turned to him, allowing him to come closer, before she slipped from her place to meet him, and that same softness returned as Gin helped her up, pulling his legs in and moving to stand, himself.

“Why would you do something so foolish?” He sighed, reaching up to shed the coat that weighed him down during the day. Gin came in close, hands sliding under the thick white fabric to press to Sosuke’s hips, his fingers curling, stronger than they seemed. She stood, a step away, respectful and waiting, and Sosuke felt a faint triumph.

“It’s our anniversary, y’know?” Gin said lowly, something rough and promising in his voice. Sosuke’s smirk grew, deepened a touch as he stepped in closer, closed her out of their embrace. He curled an arm around Gin’s waist.

“Just ours?” His voice was teasing, suggestive in its dismissal of her. A blank displeasure passed over Gin’s mouth, but before Sosuke could so much as blink, it was gone.

“All of ours,” Gin reminded him, letting a hand graze his hipbone, traveling towards his thigh. “It’s been a stretch. We figured we’d do somethin’ nice for you.”

“We thought you might like a present,” she informed him, and Gin’s hand left his thigh to push a lock of hair from her face. She smiled at them both, and Sosuke felt his irritation lessen. He released Gin, his arm slipping belatedly from his waist. She signaled for him to turn away, and he let his arms fall.

“Oh? And what gift have I earned from you both?” She reached up, pulling his coat from his shoulders, and the gentleness and surety of her small hands was somehow calming, eased him. Without the weight, he felt freer, warmer, just a little. She held the coat carefully, hanging it on a hook by his desk, and Gin stepped in to take her place, neither of them leaving him unattended for a moment. Sosuke found himself face-to-face with his Lieutenant once more, thin, clever hands resting on his hips, thumbs swirling circles into his flesh.

“The same thing you always want, Cap’n,” Gin teased, teeth scraping gently over the shell of his ear. “Control.” This last word wasn’t a whisper, not a hiss, but a statement. A whole world inside his voice, rough and silk-smooth, fine and bloody and alluring. Sosuke found his breath catching in his chest at the promise there. He pulled his head away, reached up.

“Do I not already have that?” He asked, grasping Gin’s chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Why give me something I could take at any moment?” She returned, resting a hand on his elbow, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Complete control,” she said, rubbing her thumb back and forth at the crook of his elbow, the folds of his shirt. “Of both of us, all night.”

“No holds barred,” Gin purred, pushing forward so he could return to paying acute attention to Sosuke’s neck. “Nothing held back. Whatever you want.”

“Is there anything you’ve been holding back, Captain?” She murmured, her hands radiating heat through his arm, his back. They had twined around him, curled up to cling to him. Gin’s feet touched his, her hands rested warmly at his back. He felt at home, for a moment. Surrounded by dedicated affection and sweet words. He felt the idea take root, the flush of total power, complete control like a disease in his blood.  

“I’m sure there is,” Gin said, with a crack of a smile at the darkness in his sharp eyes. “What do you want, Captain? How do you want it?”

“There’s something I’ve wanted from both of you for a very long time,” he said finally, haltingly, nothing like the usual, confident regality he usually assumed. He paused, a hand at each of their hearts. “Something permanent.” Gin’s smile widened, one eyebrow ticked up.

“You askin’ me to marry you, Cap’n?” Sosuke sighed.

“No. I’m asking you… to be mine.” He looked between them, serious and calm. “To wear my name on your skin until the end of your lives.” She nodded, after a moment, and knelt, one hand holding his.

“If that’s what you want,” she said quietly, and Gin’s smile softened.

“You’re our King,” Gin said. “You already own us.” He shed his own coat, let it fall at Sosuke’s feet and knelt there with it, looking up at him. “Do what you like.” There was silence for a moment, and they trembled with trepidation, a slight anxiety that perhaps they’d responded wrong.

“My loyal Lieutenant,” Sosuke said, bending,  hooking one knuckle under Gin’s chin, lifting it to meet his eyes. “My lady.” He slipped his hand from hers and set it under her chin, looking from one to the other and seeing nothing but openness, nothing but agreement. Trust. “So obedient.”

“I follow my Captain,” Gin whispered, catching Sosuke’s hand in his.

“Your grace,” she said, leaning into his touch.

He straightened, pulling their chins near-vertical, forcing their faces to remain on his, baring their throats.

“Cap’n,” Gin rasped, mouth open and body straining towards Sosuke’s hand. He pulled away, letting their heads fall, and reached into the folds of his robes. When his hand emerged, it was clasped around a thin, shining blade. More like a letter opener than anything, delicate and flat, pointed at the end like a pen.

“Take off your shirt,” he told Gin, and he did, leaving it strewn beside his coat, a swirl of white fabric on the white floor. In turn, she undid the collar of her shift, letting it slip down, baring her shoulders.

“Turn,” he said, and they both did, bowing so their faces came close to the floor, their backs, their necks defenseless under his gaze.

He knelt behind Gin first, and the hand pressing his face to the floor was cold, strong and familiar, merciless in its force. He didn’t struggle, only relaxed under it, and the first cut on the nape of his neck was sudden, flawless, clean. He felt Sosuke carve the characters for his name down from there, along his spine. Clear in the middle of his back, between his shoulders. Unmissable, should he ever be seen without a shirt. He panted, the pain building to a soft heat in his groin, arousal blooming from the soreness, the feeling of hot blood dripping down his back. And then, with on last, deep cut, it was done. He released Gin, breathing hard himself, and stood back to admire his work.

“Mine,” he murmured, and then moved to her. Gin watched, lazily, from the floor as Sosuke pressed her down, too, just as roughly, just as surely. She whined and twitched and moaned into the floor at every curve of the knife. Sosuke had started hers higher up, where her hair began to fade into skin. It ended at the base of her neck, where Gin’s began, and the sweetness of it warmed him. Sosuke was too deliberate to have done it on accident, and Gin smiled, fully, at that.

“You’re a soft touch, Cap’n,” Gin said, grinning. Sosuke looked down at him, a spark of fondness in his eyes, his hands covered in blood.

“You really think so?” He said, and Gin laughed at the tease there. She snorted, and Sosuke looked half-wounded that she would join in.

“Not at all,” she assured him, reaching up to run a finger down his leg. “There is nothing but fear of you in my heart.” Sosuke smirked, bending to kiss her.

“Clever girl,” he murmured, before straightening once more. “Over to the bed. Undress.” He began to untie his robes, moving to Gin and gesturing to him to stand. Steady on his feet, despite the buzz of feeling, the sting of the cuts, the blood slick on his back and wet on his shoulders. He undid his hakama, leaving himself bare, and Sosuke turned him to face the bed.

“Watch her,” Sosuke ordered, and it was an order, rough and low in his ear, whispered with all the promise he could give. “Don’t turn around.” He stepped back, opening a drawer of his desk, the faint clatter easily tracked. His attention split between them, but his focus returned to her without trouble, without shame. Gin did watch, watched her press her fingers into the back of her neck, weeping blood, red flooding down the white fabric, then up to her hair to untie it, to leave it loose and hanging like wisteria, like willow leaves. He watched her untie the laces of her shift, and thin and white as it was, it was still long, kept her covered from throat to fingertip to calf, and seeing her bare herself with such unselfconscious ease brought something to rise in Gin. Warmth, perhaps, a fondness for the trust between them that she didn’t so much as hesitate. She looked over her shoulder at him with a half-smile and he felt his own mouth turn up. She sat back onto the bed, all curves and edges and a flow of hair like water around her shoulders. Sosuke closed the drawer behind him, and Gin’s smile sharpened at the sound of steel on marble, the telltale click of a knife’s sheath set on top of Sosuke’s desk. He hummed, and she settled back onto the pillows, looking over curiously. Red began to seep into the pillow, and Gin felt his mouth go dry.

“I could do it,” Sosuke murmured from behind him, and Gin could almost imagine him shifting the knife from side to side, admiring the gloss, the sheen, the perfect, liquid silver of it. He always did, when it came to the bedroom, he always inspected them so carefully. Gin wondered what he saw there, what so captivated him in the blade’s edge, but he turned, came up behind Gin. His footsteps were soft, light. Unhurried. “I could end this whole charade right now, couldn’t I?” Gin wasn’t certain anymore if what he felt was fear or anticipation, his heart stopping dead or simply sped up to the point he couldn’t distinguish one beat from the next. He knows, he thought. He knows. But Sosuke simply stepped up behind him, and when Gin felt the brush of a hand on his waist he froze. His body screamed, instinct urging him to turn, to _fight_ , to do what he’d always intended to do and kill Aizen, to take her and _run_ \- but his heart rebelled, saying that this was his reward. This knife in his back as he’d always meant for Sosuke, this traitorous love that pierced his resolve, that swayed his heart from its purpose, that echoed a list of names, _Rangiku, Izuru, Sosuke, her_ \- and all were love and all were hate and all were broken in his mouth as he took one last breath. Sosuke’s arms curled around his waist. They were slow, calm- one of them reached across his hips to open his clenched hand and the other pressed flat to his stomach. Gin’s heart pulsed heavy in his chest, quick like a hunted fox.

“I want you to do it,” Sosuke sighed into his ear, those strong, warm arms curling about his chest, his waist, pinning him back to his Captain, pressing the knife into his palm. Sosuke’s head fell against his, his chin resting on the pale, bony expanse of Gin’s shoulders. He felt very heavy, and very warm, and very loving. A part of Gin kept alert, still fearful. A part of Gin relaxed, softened the way s/o did when she saw them curled together like that. He watched her melt into the bed, her arms unfurling, her hands resting open and soft on the white, white sheets. “She wants you to, doesn’t she?” He murmured, and Gin’s nerves buzzed at the ecstasy of it, his Captain like a blaze of light behind him, their lover like a soft glow before him. He was caught up in light, in the only light in this dark place, and the darkness welled favorably within him.  He licked his lips, and Sosuke smiled at the way his breathing hitched. “You want to,” he said, and his voice was a soft rumble that echoed in Gin’s bones. “So do it.” Sosuke slipped away from him, and Gin walked forward as if in a trance.

He knelt beside her, fell across her hips, as if he was about to crawl over her. He shifted, his hips falling heavy on her knees, his knees pressing into the bed, and she smiled up at him, at both of them, trusting and open.  He wanted them. Sosuke, her, he craved them both intensely. His hands were still shaking, still trembling at the near-miss, the mortality of this love, this body, this night.  Part of him wanted to take her away, to hide her somewhere safe away from Sosuke. Part of him wanted to fall into Sosuke’s arms with her, let the man who might have killed him soothe that wound.

“Cut her open,” Sosuke ordered him, mouthing at the back of his neck, biting every so often at a soft patch of skin. Gin groaned, softly, and he could feel Sosuke’s smile, the stirring of his cock pressed to the back of his thigh. “Do it,” he whispered, and Gin’s hand shook with fear and desire. He took a long, slow breath, ran a hand over the soft, vulnerable expanse of her stomach, and then let the blade kiss her flesh.

She gasped, soft and joyful, and Gin felt himself smile, thin and wide and full of love. Her blood welled up, thin and bright, staining, clinging to his blade- Sosuke’s blade, in his hand. Sosuke’s arm wound around Gin’s waist again, pressing his chest into Gin’s back, his thighs to the back of Gin’s, flush and both curved over her. He hummed happily, reaching out to dip his fingertips in the red, to bring them shining to Gin’s lips.

“Suck,” he ordered, and Gin let him push his fingers into his mouth. The scent of copper and taste of flowers filled his mouth, his nose, his brain. It was euphoric, the taste of her on Sosuke’s skin, the sight of her writhing and submitting, happily, to his destruction of her. He cut into her lightly, surface wounds, but they bled and bled and bled, until Sosuke was rocking heavily against him, cock hot and insistent against the inside of Gin’s thigh. Gin gave her a beautiful pattern, slashes and curves that looked like half-formed flowers, red and lovely on her skin. Sosuke slipped from behind Gin, undid his hakama, leaving himself bare. He knelt beside her on the bed, eyes wide and hungry as they charted her body. The blood collecting in the cracks and curves of her body, pooled lightly between her breasts, the red halo of bleeding from his mark on the pillow beneath her head.

“Your grace,” she sighed, as he reached between his legs to stroke himself. He moved at a leisurely pace at first, simply watching her bleed, watching her moan and shake and gasp as Gin cut her open, spread the wounds with his tongue, pull at her skin to watch the red flow from her. His hand sped up, as he watched Gin’s tongue disappear, red, into his mouth. As he kissed Gin over her, tasted the copper, the iron, the salt of her blood. He panted, hips shuddering in his own grasp. His movements grew erratic, intense, and he came, painting her white with him.

His seed spattered over her stomach, her hips, her chest, pale and thick, clinging and collecting with the the blood. It turned pink in place, remained white in others. It was unexpected, perhaps, but she arched into it, the warmth, the force of it, the sting in the cuts, the feeling of so much heat washing over her from her own body and his. She shifted, breathing heavily, and Gin bent over her, knife forgotten in hand as he licked Sosuke’s come from the juts of her hip bones, the lowest parts of her stomach. Sosuke himself leaned back, content for the moment.

“Do as you like, for now,” he sighed, reclining against the foot of the bed, watching Gin lap at the blood on her throat. She leaned up to kiss him, and he fell back where she pushed him, relaxed into her touch, her hold. It was easy for Gin to submit to someone so gentle, after years of submitting to someone so cruel.

The first time he’d thought _for Rangiku, for Rangiku, for vengeance_ , but it wasn’t. It never was. It was for him, he’d admit in the darkness, lying beside Sosuke and pressing sharp kisses to his back, just where he imagined his blade would fall. That made it better, made it worse, thinking of the blood, the red bloom on his golden-pink flesh, seeping into the white of his Captain’s coat, spreading- he’d fall into pleasure, as Sosuke turned, pressed him down and fucked him harshly enough to bleed. He’d let the strange mix of arousal and hatred, affection and fear, wash over him, burn him into a being of blood and bone and need. He could cling to that vengeance in the day, in the light that burned away all trace of his innocence, but at night he had to let go. Had to give way to causes less noble, feelings less kind. Had to admit to himself, with shame and glee and bloody, bloody freedom, that what he felt for his Captain wasn’t merely lust or loathing.

 _It wasn’t_ , he reflected, as her lips traced a path down his stomach- and oh, the warmth that followed, the sweetness, the drip of heated blood- _it wasn’t as if he’d set out intending to fall into bed with him_. He’d wanted to get closer, to needle his way past one layer of armor at a time. The killing was the first step, impaling the Third Seat with a flash of silver and a smile. Murder was an undeniable route to Aizen’s priorities.

She left red blotches up his chest, each a sucking, biting imprint of her mouth. Sosuke watched, his hand idling at his thighs, at ease in his role as director. Gin hissed at the feel of her teeth on the soft skin between his hip bones, the flat space between the ridges where she meant to leave her mark. Sosuke’s hand crept to the neat, dark curls between his legs, fingers playing there. Sosuke’s face was still shadowed, still lost to him, and he arched into the touch of her lips on the tip of his cock, wondering what his Captain was planning. He was always planning. She pulled away, and the air hit his wet flesh with a painful chill. He shifted, whined. Sosuke laughed.

It had begun as a flirtation, perhaps, an affectation of mischief, a coy touch, a smiling word. But Aizen had met those gestures with his own, until Gin was pursuing as much as he was being pursued, until his hunger to know, to see Aizen’s truest, weakest self gave way to the hunger of flesh. A need to flood his eyes with dark hair and warm skin, to be touched without gentleness or care, but with cold precision and cruelty. To be pushed to his knees and made to submit, smiling and panting and pushing back the whole way. He wanted it, even then, though he told himself with childish certainty for Rangiku, for revenge.

He could see Sosuke’s face now, cold, dark eyes fixed on him, mouth curled into that facsimile of a smile. He let his head fall back, let her’s wet, soft mouth latch onto his throat, face turned to the side as he watched Sosuke with slitted eyes and an open mouth. Their gazes met, and the smile spread, and Gin felt very exposed, felt as if his skin had been torn away and the only thing covering him was her, her, just as soft, just as torn-open and vulnerable as he was. He turned back, looking up at her, Sosuke’s gaze still heavy on his body.  

She pulled away, and Gin reached up to cup her face. For a moment he felt an impulse, sharp and whispered in Sosuke’s voice, to tighten his hands around her throat, to watch her gasp and feel her jolt and shake. To feel the blood, hot and fresh, trickle from her wounds and paint his body with warmth. To feel the ridges of Sosuke’s name under his fingers. He didn’t want it, didn’t find it beautiful, but he knew Sosuke would, and even in his own hands he was trying to please him. Instead he pulled her face down to his, hands strong on her jaw. She followed easily. He kissed her slowly, let her rest a hand on the pillow beside his face. The touch of her mouth was sweeter on his than on his skin, and he could feel her swallow, feel her wanting when he pulled back to nip at her top lip. The urge was gone, the violence abated, but the flash of disgust that had welled up in response lingered. He hated that. Hated that he thought always of Sosuke in his presence. That even when it was the three of them, even when she was there, he thought first of what would please his Captain.

He kept kissing her, trying to banish the disgust, too, trying to wash it away with the forgiveness of her tongue. _Always so violent_ , Sosuke had teased him, in the heated, heady aftermath of their first time together. _Always so vicious_. Gin had wanted to argue, to say that he was only what Sosuke had made him, what his Captain had shaped him into on his knees, covered in blood with his lips closed around his cock and a hand firm in his hair. To say that if he was violent, it was because Sosuke wanted it. But he wasn’t, not always. Not now, he told himself, hands curling around her waist, feeling the wet, tacky warmth of blood, the slick, clear salt of Sosuke’s come on her wounds. He felt himself hard, hot, felt the pressure of her thigh against his arousal, and pulled, rolled until she was beneath him, and the spatter of blood she’d left on his chest was cold under the movement of air. _Violent_ , Sosuke’s voice echoed in his head, but he drowned it in the feeling of her, the rocking of his hips against hers, dry and rough, the scent of her blood, of sex, heavy in the room.

“Fuck her,” Sosuke said, voice as passionless and cold as it was possible to be. The words struck him into stillness, unmoving. Gin looked at him, heart hammering, skin prickling. They didn’t do this. Every time they’d been together, every time they’d fucked each other while he was there, he had had some part in it, the two of them sharing her, sharing Gin. They didn’t do this. Every time, every time it had been just the two of them, he’d been gone. He’d known, of course he had, but he’d never intruded in this way. He’d never cut in like this. Together- just the two of them, together- they’d been each other’s. Only each other’s. Something in him revolted at the thought of changing that.

“Cap’n,” he said lowly, warningly. Her arms wound around his neck, his blood striping up from her elbows to her wrists, and he looked down at her, torn.

“I leave you two alone often enough,” Sosuke said, and there was something in his face like joy, like victory. “I’d like to see what you’re like when I’m gone.” She shifted under Gin, and he looked back to her face, his mouth pinned into a small, distressed frown.

“Complete control,” she murmured, reaching up to cup his cheek. She smiled, though it wavered, as if she were trying to make it alright. “Anything for our King,” she whispered, and Gin felt something in him twist, felt something like heartbreak burn in his chest.

“Anything,” he repeated, and he kissed her, the brushes of lips a distraction from the heat of his cock at her entrance. He rocked his hips in small, slow motions, inching forward until he slipped into her. She sighed into his mouth, her shoulders falling back, and he pushed in further, the heat of her cuts and Sosuke’s seed sticking to his stomach, his chest. All that blood between them, and he left her mouth to lick a drop from her breast, to leave her flesh as clean as he could. He held himself there for a moment, his tip pricking at the heat of her. “Anything,” he murmured again, studying her face, taking note of the sadness, the arousal, the soft veil of fear dulling everything else. He kissed her again, stronger, surging forward to bury himself in her. It ached, to hear Sosuke’s breath catch, to hear the slick, painful sounds of his hand on his cock. To know that something soft and private and _good_ was no longer theirs alone. It felt like violation, in a way. It felt like welcoming Sosuke into a place in his heart that he hadn’t known was closed.

“Gin,” she sighed, and he lifted her leg over his hip, opening her more widely. He thrust into her again, smile returning at the choked, stuttering moan she let out. He could feel her fluttering, convulsing around him, her thigh pressing into his hip and her hips jerking with need. He tried to focus on her, to ignore Sosuke, Sosuke whose dominion over them was so full, Sosuke who’d put a knife into his hand, who’d placed him between her thighs and told him to love her. Sosuke, who had taken the last gentle thing in his life and made it his own. He forced him away, filled his mind with her, her sweetness, the warmth of her hands, her fingers digging sharply, pleasantly into his back. She was pressed so closely, holding him to her body as if she needed him. She kissed him, every movement jolting their mouths apart and then back together. Slowly, deeply, he moved until she was wetter, until he could feel her thighs slick with her own arousal. She was all heat and softness, tension building in her as he brushed a finger up and down the side of her knee, humming into her lips, biting at the plush pink of her mouth. The blood spread over his chest, his hips with every thrust, the milk-white of Sosuke’s come lost in the flood of red.

“Beautiful,” Sosuke’s voice was soft, almost sad. Gin didn’t look at him, grit his teeth and rolled his hips so she whimpered, pressed quick kisses to her cheek, her jaw. Dedicated himself to the pretense that they were alone. That she was his to love, that nobody was watching. That they could have something that was theirs, and theirs alone. “ _So beautiful_ ,” he said, his voice closer, and the cool hand on Gin’s back wasn’t a surprise the way it should have been. He stilled nonetheless, waiting for permission to move, waiting to be allowed to. Sosuke’s fingers splayed, tracing the taut, heated muscle of Gin’s back, the dip above the curve of his ass. “Harder,” he whispered, pressing down on Gin’s hips. He obliged, ramming into her with more force than before. Her head fell back, though her arms wrapped even more tightly around his neck. “Harder.” He buried his face in her neck, each following thrust just as harsh, just as painful. She moaned, whimpered, shook under the force.  Sosuke stood beside them, hand flat on Gin’s back, watching wide-eyed, closed-mouthed, utterly enraptured.

“Slower,” he said finally, resting one knee on the bed beside Gin. It shifted with his weight, and Gin paused, moved more slowly, more softly, letting her come down from the haze of pain and pleasure he’d raised her up to. He could feel her stomach quavering, jerking, her muscles contracting and adjusting, trying to cope with the loss of stimulation. She inhaled sharply and nodded softly, and he began to fuck her again, slow, shallow thrusts that kept her in suspense. “Keep going,” Sosuke ordered, and the touch of his finger at Gin’s entrance would have made him pause otherwise. His fingers were warm, slick and tacky with what Gin knew was his own arousal. He let out a huff as Sosuke pressed in further, stretching him with unforgiving experience. “Keep moving,” Sosuke repeated, and he did, the slide of his cock in her paralleling the thrust of Sosuke’s fingers, scissoring, burning slowly to pleasure in him. Even as he fucked into her, he fucked back into Sosuke’s grasp, and slowly Sosuke worked from two fingers to three, Gin’s muscles contracting around him. He kept moving steadily, gasping into her shoulder as she whimpered under him.

“Good boy,” Sosuke said, voice dark in Gin’s ear, and he pressed his fingers deep into Gin, into the soft part of him that made him tense and shake and lose control. He faltered in his movements, Sosuke’s other hand creeping down between his legs to grasp his balls, fingers curling painfully at the base of his cock. “Don’t stop moving.” So he didn’t, panting, nerves sparking as he moved, in and out, in and out, shallow and then deep. Sosuke’s hand tightened around his stones, forcing such sensation through him that his hips thrust deep, flush to hers, and he looked down at her, red-faced and keening. Her hands clung loosely, tiredly to his shoulders.There were tears on her cheeks, face twisted into an expression half-agony, half-pleasure.  He kissed them away, lips clumsy, glancing off her skin with the movement, but she smiled up at him all the same. Sosuke must have noticed, because he drove his fingers into Gin, more deeply, pressing into his prostate as his hips began to jerk, his mind went soft and white, and with an overwhelming rush of pleasure, of pain, of feeling, he spilled into her. Gin sighed, whole body loose with feeling. His eyes fluttered open, locked with hers as his cock twitched inside her, heat flooding her, pooling around his cock.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever been in a position to see your eyes when you come,” Sosuke observed calmly, and Gin couldn’t even open his mouth to reply. He moved back, as if to pull out, but Sosuke’s hand landed on his hip, stopping him.

“When I said you would be mine,” he said, and Gin could feel the heat of his cock at his entrance, could feel the wetness of his precome dripping against his skin. “This is what I meant.” He pushed into Gin with one stroke, and it was like the breath was knocked out of him, all the stability he’d gathered gone. He fell forward, unable to support himself, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed clumsy kisses to his face. His knees pressed into the bed, his thighs split open, spread before Sosuke’s hips, and each heavy, harsh movement forced him back, then into her again. His cock ached, itched, every nerve begging him to stop, but Sosuke wouldn’t stop. It wasn’t how he did things. “I meant,” he said, twining a hand into Gin’s hair, pulling his head back. “That you would both be mine. Mine alone. Not _each other’s_ ,” he fucked into Gin even more deeply, as if to punctuate his point, and she whimpered under him, muscles convulsing painfully around his cock. “Not anyone else’s. Mine.” He pulled harder, one hand on Gin’s hip, the other tugging his head so his back arched. If he was less flexible, Gin might snap in two. Spit ran from the corners of his mouth, meeting the trails of drying blood from his neck. His chest was s

“Cap’n,” Gin panted, teeth grit and hands fisted in the sheets on either side of her head. “Please.”

“You don’t get to make demands,” Sosuke told him coolly, hand slipping down to curl threateningly around his throat and push him down, the side of his face pressed to her breast. The gasp that that tore from him made Sosuke smile, buck forward suddenly, driving him into her once more. “You don’t get to do anything but what I tell you.” He rocked back and forth for a minute, grinding deeper into Gin, forcing him root-deep inside of her, burning him to further arousal. He could feel her blood drying all along his chest, could feel his cock twitching as if to swell again, painful and oversensitive. Sosuke drew out only to slam into him once more, hitting that same soft spot, forcing pleasure through him. “You’re mine,” he hissed, hand sliding up Gin’s back to rest on his hip once more. “You’re both mine.” He kept hitting that spot, kept sending painful strikes of pleasure to Gin’s cock, flooding his flesh with blood, the burning heat of arousal rising in him again.

“Captain,” he pleaded, mouth pressed to her breastbone, hands clenching and unclenching in the sheets. “Please, please-”

“You still don’t understand,” Sosuke said calmly, reaching forward. Gin flinched, but he reached further, right past him to tilt her face to his. “You’re both mine. You said so. You let me mark you. Everything that is yours is mine, now.” He bent over Gin, pressed a scathing kiss to his cheek, his hand still around her chin, still making her watch. “Your body. Your mind. Your soul. Your _love for her._ ” He sighed, letting her go, shifting his hips so his cock rubbed over that soft, battered part of him, forcing Gin into full hardness. She sobbed, the friction returning with every movement Sosuke made, every shift of Gin’s body against hers.

“Your love for her is _mine_ , Gin,” Sosuke whispered, pulling his hand back in, close enough to press a hand over Gin’s heart. “As is her love for you. The feeling of her body on yours is mine. The things you whisper in the darkness. The sweetness of her kiss. All of it- _everything you treasure_ \- it belongs to me now.” Gin hissed, and she reached for his face, cupped it in her hands. He kissed her fingers, apologetic and hazy, his whole world brought down to Sosuke, iron and heat behind him, her, broken and soft under him. Heated pain, agony, arousal. Sosuke pulled his face from her hands, pinned them to the bed on either side of her head, pressed his body flush to Gin’s. “You don’t so much as touch each other without my permission,” he told her, all steel. She sobbed, arching into the impact of his body on Gin’s on hers, and he released her to pull Gin back.

“Why?” Gin gasped, the breath pulled from him with every furious, inconstant thrust. Sosuke laughed.

“Think of it as a gift,” he said, smiling into his name on Gin’s back. And with that, he pushed himself as deeply into Gin as he could, close enough that Gin could feel the flesh of his thighs, the bones in his hips, the tenseness of his stomach against Gin’s back. The flood of heat within him, washing over the pained, pleasurable spaces inside of him, forced him into a second climax. Gin shuddered, sobbing, through it, his cock weeping steadily, sluggishly into her, adding to the wet mess between them. Sosuke hushed him, hand gliding soothingly up and down his back.

“You did well,” he said calmly, quietly, without a trace of exertion.

Gin faded a little after that, face pressed into her neck, body overheated and oversensitized and yearning to be close to her. To try and repair a little of what Sosuke had made them shatter. He woke there, still inside her, still covered in dry blood, wet come, sweat and tears and a vague feeling of sadness. Gone. Sosuke was gone. He’d peeled away from Gin’s back, disappeared- into the next room, perhaps. But Gin took the opportunity to slip from her opening, to sit back clumsily, dripping over his thighs, the sheets. He looked down at her, and then Gin fell over, onto his back, panting, lips dry, neck wet and all of him aching. She rolled over to face him, brushed his hair from his eyes, kissed his cheeks, murmured sweet nonsense into his jaw. One tired hand came up to press into her hair, to push her face into his and hold her close. She kissed him there, too, and his lips relaxed into a smile, almost involuntarily.

“You’re up. Good,” Sosuke said, returning. “Away from him unless I say otherwise.” Gin opened his mouth to protest, but she had fallen to the floor, kneeling for Sosuke, and his heart rose up in his throat. He waited with a racing heart for a blow, an insult, but Sosuke simply rested a hand on her head, gave her the same half-smile he always did. “Do as I say,” he reminded her, and she nodded fervently. There was a pause, Sosuke considering his options, Gin too tired to do much. “Clean him,” Sosuke ordered, and she scrambled back up to fall between Gin’s knees. Sosuke watched for a moment, before sweeping back into the next room. Gin spread his legs, and reached out a hand between them. As she crept forward, his hand fell to her head and he stroked it gently.  Her hair was soft under his hand, and she leaned into his touch guiltily, as if it was shameful. His heart felt burned through, cracked around the hollow space where what they were had been. He let his fingers push her forward, closer, so Sosuke wouldn’t punish her.

She slipped his cock into her mouth slowly, let him feel the heat of her mouth, let the pang of pain, the overstimulation rise and fall. She suckled at him, licking stripes of white from his shaft, bobbing her head so he slipped into her throat and let him rest there for a moment. It all ached, the hot wet of her mouth too much on his screaming nerves. She began moving again, running her tongue up and down his length, licking the last droplets of come from his tip, leaving him wet and aching, sore and soft, but twitching to harden again. She lifted his cock gently, laying it on his thigh, and Gin let out a soft sound as she lapped at his hole. Sosuke’s come still wept from him, and she licked away what had leaked between the cleave of his cheeks, what had spilled over his thighs, the stray drops caught in the silver hair between his legs. She was quick, but unhurried, calm and careful, and when she sat up, lips wet and still swallowing Sosuke’s come, he felt a pang. Sosuke stood watching, expressionless at the end of the bed.

“Kiss me,” Gin asked quietly, voice rough with exertion and soft with care. She hesitated, then moved forward, lay beside him once more. She looked to Sosuke, who nodded. Then, and only then, did she bend to press her lips to Gin’s, to brush gently at the corner of his mouth before he slipped his tongue between her lips. She tasted like salt, like skin and musk and blood, and his teeth ached at the familiarity of it. She pulled away, but remained close. It felt right, in a way. It felt only natural, the two of them used and worn, tired and sated at the beck and call of their king. Treasured possessions, prize pets, marked with his name, his scent, his come. Draped in him so every animal, every arrancar would know. She pressed her face into his shoulder and seemed to fall asleep there, limp and still bleeding. She looked pale, a little sickly, and Gin frowned. A bowl of water passed before his eyes, set onto the bedside table, and Sosuke eased onto the bed once more, bandages set beside him and salve handed to Gin, who was still dazed enough to ask.

“‘S this, Cap’n?” Sosuke raised an eyebrow, eyes flickering, assessing.

“You’re not usually so out of your head. If I recall, you usually do this part.” Gin looked over to the water, the bandages, her.

“Oh,” he said quietly, frown setting as he realized. “Sorry Cap’n.” Sosuke smiled, thinly, and reached over their sleeping lover to hand him a roll of bandages, too.

“On the contrary,” he said, plucking a wet rag from the bowl. His eyes narrowed. “I need you for so much of our work that I can’t often afford to use you so roughly. Being given such freedom made me… careless.” He began pulling her hair from her neck, picking clotted strands from the elegant lines of the wound he’d given her. Gin reached over to help, sitting up so he could pull her hair into a knot. “You’re too soft to her,” Sosuke said quietly, watching his hands with a frown.

“Sometimes people need softness,” Gin shrugged, looking up at him from under his eyelashes. “She’s a sweet thing.” Sosuke’s frown deepened for a moment before it melted into a placid smirk.

“So are you,” he sighed, fetching a second rag to press to Gin’s neck, blotting blood from his throat. “Violent, but sweet.” Gin reached up to bat his hand away, and Sosuke pinned it to the bed with great force. Gin turned to look over his shoulder.

“Aw, shucks, Cap’n,” he teased, his smile wide and eyes devoid of humor. “I might start thinking you love me.” Sosuke’s face stilled, spasmed with something like pain, then smoothed once more.

“Don’t you already?” He asked, pressing the bandage over his name, stifling a flash of annoyance at his claim going unseen. His voice was flat, empty, and Gin laughed.

“I don’t even think you’re capable of it, Cap’n.” His smile was vicious, cutting. “I’m not sure I am, either. But sometimes you say a thing ‘n it makes me wonder if maybe,” he brushed his thumb down Sosuke’s nose, lingering on the tip of it, like a kiss. “Maybe you might just be as weak as us.” Sosuke’s grip on his wrist was iron, and Gin fancied he could hear the bones crack before he let go.

“You aren’t weak,” he said evenly, before rising. “I’m certainly not.”

“No y’aren’t,” Gin murmured, beginning to wipe the blood from her stomach, to clean her of his come, Sosuke’s, and he pursed his lips at the thought of an infection. He kept his voice level, even. “You gonna keep punishing her for being what you asked her to be?” Sosuke met his eyes curiously, wiping a trail of dried blood from her back.

“It wasn’t her I was punishing,” he said calmly, dipping the rag into the water once more. “She’s easily broken, as I’m sure you saw.” Gin didn’t look away from him, something like rage, like frustration welling in his chest.

“We were giving you a gift,” he said flatly. “Not our fault you decided to make it something else.”

“You did give me a gift,” he said. “You gave me something I couldn’t take.” _Violation_ , his mind hissed, and Gin sighed.

“We’d give you anything,” he said quietly. “And that’s what you wanted. No need to be upset about it.”

“I’m not upset,” Sosuke said icily, and Gin raised an eyebrow. “I wanted to make several things clear.

“You made a couple of things _very_ clear, Cap’n,” he drawled, and she shifted between them, forcing a pause while they made sure she was asleep. “She won’t come out of that for awhile yet,” he pointed out. “You didn’t just make her submit, you made her nothing.”

“She _is_ nothing,” Sosuke reminded him, and the near-imperceptible flicker of anger on Gin’s face made him smile

“Yeah,” Gin said, finally, looking down at her. “Maybe she is nothing. But I was nothing, too, before you found me.” He looked back up at Sosuke, and there was something like surprise in his face. They were quiet like that for a moment.

“You make a compelling case,” he said quietly. “Just like last time.”

“Last time all I had to do was convince you to bring in someone else to fuck. This time I’m convincing you to fuck her nicely. It’s much harder,” he said, grinning widely, and Sosuke couldn’t quite tell if he was joking.

“Consider me undecided,” he said, after a moment.

“I always do,” Gin said.

She woke up the next morning to find Gin’s head pressed into her chest, his arms around her waist.

“Gin,” she whispered, running a hand through his hair. “Gin?” He didn’t wake, only pushed his face further into her breast, murmuring in his sleep. Gently, carefully, she shifted his arm from around her waist, hissed at the strain on her muscles, the deep ache between her legs.

“Where’re you going, sweetness?” She turned to find him sitting up, face still soft with sleep. “You’re still a little fucked up, you know.”

“You’re one to talk,” she pointed out, and his smile lurched a little, grew longer on one end.

“You’ve got me there,” he sighed. “C’mere.” Gin beckoned, one hand waving at her to come closer. “Wanna spend the rest of the day here with you.”

“I can’t, remember?” She smiled sadly. “We’d need permission.”

“He’s just outside,” Gin said, after a long pause. His voice was gentler, pained. “If you really want to ask.” He swung his legs over the side, sat, pulling on his hakama and tying them off.

“It’s not that I wan-” She swallowed, sighed.  “It’s alright. Rest,” she told him, picking up her shift and pulling it on. “We’ll see each other soon, I’ll bet.”

“Not soon. We don’t- you don’t have to go,” he said, but she shook her head.

“I do have t- I should go,” she said, and when he reached out, she turned as if to leave.

“Don’t do that,” he told her softly. “Don’t turn away like you’ve got somethin’ to be ashamed of.”

“His grace-” He reached out and set a hand on her shoulder, and the way she flinched back hurt him. He followed her, turned to face her. She was crying, and when he reached down to brush the tears away, she stepped back, pushing his hand back.

“His grace can take it up with _me_ ,” he said stubbornly, and she laughed, another tear slipping from her eye.

“I think he just did,” she reminded him sadly. His muscles clenched, and he could feel the slick of Sosuke’s come leaking from him, the ache of the stretch, the sting of raw skin on his cock. The burn of Sosuke’s name on his neck. “I don’t want you suffering for me, Gi- Lord Ichimaru.” The title was unfamiliar on her tongue, unwieldy and painful. He wanted to argue it, to remind her that he was only ever Gin, to her, but the look on her face was set enough he knew he’d get nowhere like that.

“I’ll suffer either way,” he told her, and the smile was gone, the tease missing from his voice. “I’m just selfish enough to ask you to be there with me.”

“Will that make it better?” She asked, sniffing. He nodded, reaching up to wipe her tears again. This time she let him.

“He gets jealous, Sosuke. Even of his own self, if we weren’t here to blame.” He kissed her forehead, and she only flinched back a little. He called it progress. “I never want to let go of you,” he admitted, and she shook her head. “You’re good. I want to keep ahold of the good things I’ve got.” Sosuke’s voice burned in his head- _everything you treasure_ \- and he had to fight the fear that rolled over him.

“I’m only a distraction,” she said, bitter sadness in her voice. “To him. To you.” She stepped back, away, into the cool darkness of the room. 

“Just stay here,” he asked, begged. “You don’t have to be near me, but just. Stay here.” She stopped by the door, and he held his tongue. She swallowed, reached, turned back, crept through the room to curl up in one of the chairs in the corner. He exhaled, turning away so she wouldn’t see. He pulled on his shirts, his coat, wrapping himself in layers of white and stifling the pain. 

A distraction. He didn’t know how to tell her he’d thought the same at first, that whatever poor analysis she’d made, it couldn’t possibly match the uncaring calculus he’d done when Sosuke had first brought her to their bed. That whatever she imagined herself now could never be lower than what he’d imagined her then. That she had proven herself a truer lover, a kinder soul than he could hope to suffer for. That whatever she imagined he and Sosuke were, they could never be.

He was only a snake, after all.

Only a creature of teeth and blood and soft, sweet insides for his Captain’s pleasure, for his Captain to tear open. A creature all white with an empty heart and red with a full belly, licking blood from its master’s hands and thinking always, always, of how sweet his blood would taste, how beautiful he’d be, split and broken with betrayal. He was only what Sosuke had encouraged, had let him be as he watched, hungrily, as Gin sated himself in a pretty thing with brown eyes that Gin could pretend were Sosuke’s, soft skin and hard muscle he could pretend was Sosuke’s, with dark hair he could bury his face in and tear out and pretend was Sosuke’s.

She was the first person Gin hadn’t pretended was him. She’d been so quiet when Sosuke had fucked her in their bed. Gin had sat, bored and bitter, jealous in a chair, watching them from under Kyoka Suigetsu’s veil. She was the first person other than Sosuke that he’d ever _wanted_ to fuck, that he’d ever wanted in that way. But he was what Sosuke asked him to be, violent and settled between the thighs of the girl he loved, whatever scarce intimacy they’d made broken in his mouth. He looked back, then away from her, guilt rising in his throat. He felt guilty for very little these days.

Selfishly, sharply, even unto the death, he wanted to be with Sosuke, with s/o, in this dark place. He wanted him dead, but with every breath he loved him alive. He wanted her safe, but more than that, he wanted her close. Irreconcilable, he stood between. Her, in a beam of light in the other room. Him, blazing in the sun. Both his. Neither his. _Both his_. He moved into the light, forward, on soft, tired feet, and nestled into Sosuke’s chest, pressed his face into the dip of his collarbone, clung to his coat, his wrist. He inhaled sharply, Sosuke’s hands coming up to his hair. “Come back, Cap’n,” he sighed, and his face fit perfectly into the crook of shoulder and neck, his nose buried in the soft, heavy collar of Sosuke’s soft, heavy coat.

“Gin,” he replied, holding him there, the two of them curling around each other in the sun. Gin let it wash over him, even as false as it was, its brightness and warmth making him softer, more real. _Like a snake_ , Sosuke thought fondly, _cold-blooded and lazy in the light._

Gin pressed a delicate, slow kiss to his jaw, and Sosuke let his eyes flutter shut, let his neck tilt to let him in. He felt the cool softness of his lips, the warm graze of teeth, and thought of the inevitable betrayal. There would be one, there must be, Sosuke thought with a pang of anticipation, sharp and free like he’d never felt before. Gin had never once looked at him with the same softness as he did her, never touched him as though he were the sum of the world and all that was good within it. Sosuke wouldn’t have wanted him to.

For all his shrouded, wrenched-free professions of love, Gin could never have truly loved him. Not with that glittering darkness in his every smile, not with that careful turn away each time he released Kyoka Suigetsu. There must be a betrayal, a turn of that silver tongue and cold steel into his back. There was not a misstep in Gin’s path thus far, even his defense of their lover couched in a lazy suggestion, a callous joke, her soft place in his heart pasted over with ice and blood so Sosuke wouldn’t see. Gin was, to Sosuke’s pride, a flawless saboteur. Even to his own detriment, Sosuke had cultivated that in him, and yet even he could find no reason for Gin’s devotion to this particular charade. There was no room for sex in that lie, no need for words that alluded to love. By all rights, Gin should have stepped away immediately, seen the reflection of his own lack of feeling and lack of kindness multiplied in Sosuke’s bared heart and pulled away in disgust. Instead he’d moved closer. It had made the last century truly, utterly engaging. It could have been an endless trial, slow and boring, but Gin… Gin had given him a puzzle even he couldn’t solve.

“Thank you,” he murmured, with a voice softer than the dawn on Gin’s cheek. “For pretending so well.” His Lieutenant paused, stilled fully and automatically, his hand clasped as lightly as before but unmoving on Sosuke’s wrist, his other hand pressed flat to the small of his back. He breathed shallowly, as though considering the meaning of such words, face hidden in the curve of Sosuke’s neck. He waited, watching Gin’s hair glinting silver and lavender-gold, more beautiful than Sosuke could imagine by himself in the darkness.

“Don’t have to thank me for that, Captain,” he said finally, his own voice low and warm, and it stung Sosuke’s pride as much as it froze in his heart, the way he spoke as if Sosuke were something to be cared for, lied to, protected. He took one sharp breath before Gin continued, cut him off, ended the conversation. “I don’t do it for you.”

“Gin-“

“Sosuke,” he said, and something in him tightened, made at once proud and painful with the sound of his name bare on Gin’s tongue. He said it so rarely, and with such reluctance. Like it was being torn from him. He delighted in hearing it, each time it was ground from Gin’s mouth, forced from him. Sosuke only shook his head, kissed his lips quite softly, and said it once more.

“Thank you.” Gin’s face tightened, as if hurt, and he pulled away wordlessly. He looked back over his shoulder, a single footstep enough to alert him. He moved back to where she stood, in nothing but her shift in the doorway, as Sosuke watched. Gin pulled off his own coat, wrapping it around her shoulders and chiding her about something, teasing her, from the mingled look of exasperation and fondness on her face. He kissed her forehead, gently, and when she flinched away, looked to Sosuke, he could see the cracks in their love from where he’d forced himself in. He nodded to her, gave them permission. Gin paused, jaw tight, and after a breath she leaned forward again, letting his lips brush her skin. Sosuke felt an ache in his chest, at once stubborn and proud and remorseful. He stifled it. She turned to look back at him, and Gin’s head followed. They were soft-edged, the two of them silhouetted in soft light and shadow, as if begging him to join them.

He wanted to. For a moment he leaned forward, weaker than he’d ever been. _They know you_ , a traitorous part of him whispered. _They could be your equals, your most loyal confidantes. You could fix what you’ve broken_. But that was foolishness. Gin, however strong, however loyal, was no match for him. He could keep up, perhaps, but he would never walk beside Sosuke, never have the vision to rise above. He was moments from betrayal at all times, and if Sosuke wanted a knife in his heart, all he would have to do was open it to Gin. She was even less plausible, a mere fancy elevated to permanent plaything. Soft, gentle and clever, but weak of heart, defenseless. She was no warrior or sage, not half so fierce as Gin, not half so useful. He had no need of her, except in regards to Gin, who he had no need of except in regards to his plans. They were tools. They were _toys_.

Still, they were sweet when he tore into them, luxurious in blood. Like pretty, captured creatures, a tame fox and a bird with clipped wings. A white snake and a delicate mouse. Treasured possessions he could keep in his palace gardens, to be devoured or doted on at a moment’s whim. They stood so close, even after he’d broken their trust, noses touching, smiles bare in the light. They looked warm, surreal. He wanted to look at them forever. He wanted them never to touch. He wanted them torn apart, yearning and unfulfilled, never to speak again. He wanted to be a part of them. His heart rebelled, his mind stalled. For a brief moment, despite himself, he saw eternity between them, their arms warm around him, their mouths pretty and painted red as he watched them kiss, as they kissed him, his heart soft and full. His name on their skin, in their bones, the two of them his, and he theirs, unending. In a flurry of fear his body acted on its own. He turned on his heel and strode away.

 _Admiration_ , his mind spat. _You know where that leads_.

**Author's Note:**

> Aizen: sees Gin and s/o are happy without him  
> Aizen: give me five minutes and a knife  
> ///  
> I reread this yesterday, and there are some things I'd love to edit in and fill in, especially the aftercare because... I missed most of it. But also, some stuff I'd like to write about post-this in relation to whether or not Gin dies, how this emotional dynamic would change things, etc. So maybe there'll be some short pieces to fill those gaps at some point in the future.


End file.
